By Any Other Name
by MelissaeWrites
Summary: Tooth has designs, Jack has no home, and Bunny has far more to him than meets the eye. When Jack is pressed into staying at the warren for a week, he discovers that eggs mean something, and so do flowers. (Jackrabbit, Jack/Aster)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! I posted this to AO3 yonks ago, but I'm cross posting everything here slowly but surely. I'll probably upload a new chapter every day because the whole thing is done and I don't like sitting on fics. Still feeling my way around 's format, but I hope all looks good! This fic's got unrepentant flangst, musings on the nature of storytelling, eggs, and far too much flower language, but here's hoping you like it!

* * *

It all started because of the most benign conversation.

"Now Jack," Toothiana said, eyeing him over her cup of chai, "Promise me you'll brush as soon as you get home. Tea can stain your teeth, you know."

Jack nodded and ran a hand along the delicately ornate table he and Tooth were sitting at. "Yeah yeah." He paused, fingering the colorful tiles that covered the top of the table, then glanced around at the room. Bright, gleaming tiles scattered beautiful patterns on the spires around them, and rich gold accented and heightened each design. Tooth's palace really was insanely beautiful, but the amount of detail that went into its design gave him an itchy feeling under his skin. Maybe it was a latent desire to mess things up a little. "You know, I've actually been thinking about that, Tooth," he said, turning his attention back to his equally colorful friend.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "You've been thinking about brushing your teeth? Not that I'm complaining, but what brought this on?"

"No, not that!" he started, then seeing the crestfallen look on her face, quickly added, "Not that I don't brush regularly. Don't worry about that, Tooth."

"So what did you mean?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

Her tone told him that she was temporarily mollified, but Jack was glad to change the subject. "Home. I mean, you guys all have these giant fortresses you live in. Like a base of operations, you know? I don't have anything like that," he said.

She leaned forward in her seat, prompting Jack to sit back in his own. "You know, I've been wondering about that, Jack. Where do you live? None of us have ever seen your home."

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, you know. Here and there. I'm needed all over the world, so I don't sit still too long most of the time," he said lightly.

Tooth's expression, which had been mischievous and maybe just a bit wheedling, abruptly clouded. "Jack, you do have a home, don't you?"

"Well, nothing like this," he answered, gesturing towards the nearest grand tower. "Sometimes I'll sleep in trees or on roofs or something, but I don't really need to sleep that much, so I haven't really needed to have a house-"

"Jack," Tooth cut in, looking concerned.

"But," he pressed on, pointedly ignoring her tone, "Now that I'm a Guardian, I've been thinking about putting a place together. Now that I've got a few believers-" He paused a moment, allowing himself a moment to grin to himself over this development. He'd said the words to himself a few times, but they never seemed quite real. Believers. Kids who believed inhim. Who would have ever thought that Jack Frost would become a Guardian with actual believers? Tooth was opening her mouth to say something again, though, so he quickly pressed on, "Now that I have a few believers and my powers are starting to get stronger, maybe I can build a place for myself."

Tooth opened her mouth, then closed it as if she were still trying to decide exactly what she wanted to say. "Jack," she finally settled on, "You know that you can stay with us whenever you want to, you know. Any of us. All of us have more room than we know what to do with."

Jack shook his head vehemently, throwing his hair into even more disarray than usual. "No, that's not what I meant! I just-" He paused, trailing his finger around the rim of his tea cup, leaving a thin, sparkling layer of frost where he touched. "It might be nice to have a place of my own," he finally finished, well aware of how pathetic that might sound to an outsider.

It really wasn't a big deal, though. He'd always lived life on the wind, going wherever he pleased and causing general mayhem wherever that happened to be. Living the way he did let him visit with children far more often, and what would he do with all that space, anyway? It's not as if he'd ever had to entertain or anything. Now, though... Now things were changing. Now he had children that occasionally tried to contact him, and he was making friends that he wouldn't mind having in his personal space. And it wouldn't be bad to have a place where he could practice new tricks to play on a certain giant rabbit. Of course, having an actual base of operations would give Bunny a place to attack.

He frowned at the thought, and from the way Tooth's face fell, she'd obviously taken it exactly the wrong way. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all," she told him earnestly, and seeing his unconvinced look, she added, "And if you stay with each of us for a few days, you might get some design ideas for your own home."

Jack started inching his chair back from the table, starting to feel a little caged in by her unwavering gaze. "Really, Tooth, it's not a big deal. It was just a thought," he reassured. Then, before she could say much else, he pushed himself out of his chair. "It's been fun, Tooth, but London's been way too sunny this year." He flew up out of his chair and towards the open sky. "See ya later!"

He heard Tooth call his name as he flew away, but for once, Jack was quite sure that he didn't want to be noticed.

* * *

After a few inconsequential days, Jack was sure that Tooth had forgotten all about their conversation. After all, ever since she'd first started inviting him to tea a few years ago, they'd gotten into some really strange conversations. This was hardly the most memorable tea they'd had. He was sure right up until the day yetis showed up in Sochi and dragged him into a portal.

"Hey! What gives?" he grumped as he tumbled out into North's enormous foyer. "I don't know if you've noticed, but the Winter Games are in three weeks and I'm not about to let everything melt like last time."

"Jack!" North crowed in greeting, completely ignoring Jack's ire. "It is good to see you! Tooth tells me you are wanting to make a house!"

Jack got to his feet, starting to feel wariness creeping up his spine. "Tooth told you about that?"

"Yes," North said, suddenly grave. "Tooth comes to me, all a-flutter, and she says Jack has nowhere to live!"

Jack groaned. "It's really not like that-"

"Bah!" North exclaimed, trucking right along as if Jack had not spoken. "It is no problem, I tell her. I am great at building things!" He gestured expansively at the frenetic workshop around them. "Just look!"

"Yeah, I see," Jack said with a grimace. "Look, did Tooth just tell you, or-"

"Of course not! Tooth is worried, she visits with all of us," North said with a derisive sniff, as if Jack had impugned Tooth's dignity just by suggesting such a thing.

Jack sighed. "That's exactly what I was afraid of..."

* * *

North had shown him around every nook and cranny of his workshop, and had given him his own room. Jack had not missed the way North had casually added that it could be his room whenever he wanted to use it, even after he had his own home. This mantra was repeated a couple weeks later when Tooth had spirited him away to her palace, and again when Sandy took Jack to his dream castle in the sky.

Of all the places he'd visited, Sandy's home was by far his favorite, but also the one furthest out of his skill set. The entire castle was made of glittering dream sand, and it shifted and changed just as the dreams of children do. That was a realm Jack knew he would never get tired of, but he knew that his frost would never behave the way Sandy's sand did. He had bigger problems than icy physics, however, and the longer he stayed with his friends, the more one in particular started to gnaw at him.

One clear evening, when he and Sandy were sitting together on a shapeless, sandy cloud, he said, "So Bunny's the only one who hasn't dragged me to his house yet." He worked hard to keep his voice light, careful.

Sandy shrugged, images of dancing Easter eggs appearing above his head. _Easter is soon,_ Jack interpreted.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, looking down and away. He pretended for a moment to be very interested in the sleepy town they were floating above. "Easter's in just a few months. He's probably too busy." Then he forced a laugh. "Not that I can see him wanting to have a slumber party with me, anyway."

Sandy rolled his eyes shook his head. He made a face at Jack that he couldn't quite interpret, but it seemed somewhat exasperated.

He looked silly enough that Jack's chuckle this time was real. "Can you imagine him letting me in his warren this time of year? Wayyy too many things to break or frost over," he said, the grin on his face wry but true.

Sandy puffed out a sigh, but made no move to further correct Jack. Instead he leaned back on the cloud so he could look up at the stars, a somewhat wistful expression on his face. After a few tugs on his sleeve, Jack leaned back to join him, and they lapsed into pensive silence.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure that he wanted Bunny to come collect him just as the others had. His relationship with the giant rabbit had improved since the time with Pitch, just as his relationships with the others had. All of them had been so unsure with him at first, like they were puzzle pieces but weren't yet sure what picture they were supposed to fit together to make. Over time, however, the rough edges had started to smooth into something comfortable. Well. He was comfortable with most of the Guardians now. Bunny, though... There was still tension there between them. Maybe it was because they had had the most fraught relationship before they were thrown together by the will of the moon, but there was an undercurrent of something Jack still couldn't quite put his finger on between them. Their paths crossed often enough, and Jack had become extremely fond of sneaking into the warren to cause trouble. Bunny, for his part, seemed to be playing up his irate retorts, playing at anger instead of truly feeling it. That, at least, had become familiar between the two of them. It was the quiet moments, though, that had Jack tied up in knots. When they'd sit together in the grass, exhausted and panting after chasing each other over hill and vale. In that half-second before Bunny schooled his features into safe irritation. When Jack's heart skipped a beat when Bunny called his name...

Okay, maybe Jack had an inkling of what to call the undercurrent, at least on his part. But the whole thing was just wildly impossible. Not only was Bunny, well, a _bunny_, but their personalities were completely different. He was sure that there was no way on earth a diligent, serious pooka would want a sprite like him. No, there wasn't much of a chance of Bunny even wanting Jack to be his friend, much less anything more.

Jack sighed deeply and rolled over so he wouldn't have to look at Sandy or the stars any longer. After all, Bunny hadn't even invited him to the warren.

* * *

Jack let himself sink back into a snowbank with a relieved sigh. Sochi had gone off without a hitch-well, weather-wise, at least. Not another disaster like Vancouver had been. Now he could have a well-deserved break in Burgess, maybe visit with a few of the kids, before he was on his way again. Burgess, to Jack's amusement, had become something of a hub for belief in Jack Frost, and he could feel that belief down in his bones whenever he visited. His power was growing to the point that he could feel it somewhere deep inside whenever his antics brought the kids genuine joy, and that feeling was never stronger than in Burgess. That was definitely why he visited so often. Definitely not to visit with Jamie and his friends, who were far too old to believe in Jack Frost and Santa Claus, but still inexplicably hung onto their belief. Well. Maybe a little bit to visit with Jamie. Call it a reward for working so hard to get the word out about Jack's existence.

A crunching behind him distracted Jack from his reverie, and he opened his eyes, blinking in the sunlight, to see a shadow stretching out over him. "Whoa!" he shouted, sitting bolt upright in the snow. He couldn't help but be a bit wary around shadows, still, but this time there wasn't much to worry about. He squinted at the figure standing above him for a moment, not sure if he was seeing properly. "Bunny?"

"Away with the pixies, are you, Frostbite?" Bunny asked, whiskers twitching as if at a private joke.

"I-what?" Jack's surprise was swallowed up by confusion. He glanced around. "I don't see any pixies." And a good thing, too. They were obnoxious little things, and they'd be out in full force in a few months.

"Never mind, lad. Here," Bunny said, reaching one paw down to help Jack to his feet.

Jack looked at him with some suspicion. Bunny very rarely did nice things for him without a catch. "What brings you all the way to Burgess, Bunny? It's a bit cold for you up here, isn't it?" he asked.

Bunny crossed his arms and gave Jack a look that was somewhere between annoyed and playful. Jack was not mollified. "What, can't a rabbit visit a mate without the third degree?" Bunny asked.

"No," Jack responded flatly. He surreptitiously took a look at Bunny's bandolier. He didn't see any of his egg bombs, but after being dyed completely pink once, a guy didn't take chances.

Bunny's ears drooped just a touch. "Fair enough. Tooth came by a bit ago, and-"

Jack cut him off with a groan. "Not you, too, Bunny!

Bunny bristled at that. "Oi! She's just trying to help you, you little blighter!" he snapped.

"I don't need help!" Jack retorted. "I've been doing just fine on my own!"

"Yeah, but you're not on your own anymore, are you?" Bunny growled, and Jack's mouth snapped shut. "Get your head out of your arse and stop being such a tool, you wanker. You've got people who worry about you now."

Jack's ire died as quickly as it flared up. He wasn't sure how Bunny even managed to rile him up as easily as he did. He put it down to being exhausted and to Bunny being obnoxious, not wanting to think too deeply on the matter.

Still, Bunny might have a point this time. Jack shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to worry anyone. "It's not a big deal, Bunny," he finally muttered.

"You say that," Bunny said, voice full of derision, "But you look about ready to keel over right here in the snow. Wouldn't you prefer a bed?"

Jack hesitated at that. He'd gone a long, long time without a bed, but he'd gotten a bit spoiled over the past month or two. Still, though. "I don't need anyone to look after me," he said, well aware that he sounded petulant.

"Didn't say you did, mate. But I hear you've been admiring the architecture at everyone else's place. You might make a guy think there's something wrong with the warren," Bunny said, turning a keen eye on Jack. There was something knowing and a bit miffed in that gaze, and Jack, to his immense displeasure, felt his cheeks going a pale shade of lavender under the scrutiny.

"No!" he blurted out before he could think better of it. Bunny blinked at him, and Jack quickly amended, "There's nothing wrong with your warren. It's nice. Very... green. I just thought you'd be busy with Easter." _Nice save, Jack,_ he thought to himself.

"Nah," Bunny said, his eyes finally warming at the mention of his holiday. "I've got a couple months yet before that comes around. Easter's late this year. Besides," he said, looking Jack up and down, "Always got time for a mate."

And now Jack was sure he was blushing, and from the raised eyebrow he was getting from Bunny, that fact had not escaped him either. "Well..."

Bunny grinned triumphantly. He knew when the tide had turned in a battle. He threw a furry arm around Jack's shoulders and said, "C'mon, Jacko, you look buggered. Why not crash at my place for a bit? Not long. Let's say a week?" he said, voice low and coaxing.

Jack, meanwhile, was trying very valiantly not to squeak. He cleared his throat once, twice, tried to ignore the warm weight around his shoulders and the clean scent of spring. "Fine," he finally forced out.

Bunny patted his shoulder conspiratorially. "Good onya, mate. We'll get you to rights before you know it."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack replied, trying his best not to look like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

* * *

Jack peered around with interest. He'd been down in the warren before, obviously, but he'd never been in Bunny's... well, "den" was as good a word as any. The entrance to the tunnels had been built into the side of a particularly picturesque hillside, forcing Jack to bite back a quip about Hobbits and holes. _Careful, Jack. Pace yourself. Hold onto that one for a rainy day._

He'd expected the inside to be mildly dizzying and claustrophobic, but that was the last thing he felt as he stepped into Bunny's home. He appeared to be in some kind of living room with a large, squashy chair and a couch which didn't seem to have seen much use. Soft light emitted from lamps spread around the room, but they didn't seem to run on anything like electricity. The ground was soft beneath Jack's bare feet, a carpet of fuzzy moss with just the right amount of give. The ceiling was a bit low for someone Bunny's size, admittedly, but it was just right for Jack. He could float unencumbered and what could have been claustrophobic just felt cozy to him. Besides, there were holes in either side of the room, which presumably led to other rooms, and they really opened the place up.

"'ts not much," Bunny said next to him, standing a little too still to be casual. "But it's home."

Jack started. He'd almost forgotten that Bunny was still there. "No, no, I like it!" he said, then winced at how earnest his voice had sounded there for a minute. He changed gears. "Exactly what I would have pictured for a giant rabbit."

"Oi," Bunny admonished, but his tone was fond. He raised his arm so he could gesture with his thumb towards the hole on the left. "Kitchen's thataway, and if you'll follow me, I'll take you to your room." He set off towards the right, purposefully ignoring the way Jack trailed his fingers along the back of the chair, frosting the fabric slightly as he followed along.

His room. Just for this week, or would it be a permanent fixture, like at the others' homes? The question itched at the tip of Jack's tongue, but he held back. He couldn't quite put his finger on why he hesitated to ask, but he was pretty sure it was because he wasn't expecting to like the answer. Besides, no use in wearing out his welcome any faster than he inevitably would.

Bunny led him down what in a normal house would be a hallway, but in the den was a winding tunnel. Jack could see a network of roots, vines, and creepers helping the tunnel to keep its shape, and he could just imagine Bunny encouraging them to wrap just so, using his unique powers to mold the world he would live in. He couldn't quite imagine his own hands creating a domicile with such skill, but there was still time.

"The linen closet's that way," Bunny was saying, pointing down one crooked tunnel, "And the dunny's over there."

"The what?"

"The loo, ya boofhead."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yes, that was completely obvious to all non-kangaroos," he said, making sure to inject gentle teasing into his voice. He was pretty sure they were past the need for actual insults, but it was good to be clear. Now those fond insults, on the other hand, he could get behind. There were a few that Jack was pretty sure Bunny only used on him, like Frostbite and Snowbird, and the warmth with which Bunny said them was something he'd definitely had to get used to. He was at the point now where he wouldn't smile like a dope, but it was hard.

"Not my fault you don't know a bloody thing about other cultures, Frostbite." Yeah, right there. Fight that grin. "Well, this is yours, Jacko." Bunny stopped outside a small, rounded door set into the wall and tapped an absent little tune into the wood. "To tell you the truth, mate, the place is a bit of a maze, but you're welcome to wander around a bit if you like, get your bearings."

Jack raised a playful eyebrow. "You sure you trust me to wander in your warren all alone?" he asked.

Bunny glanced at him for a moment, gaze casual but assessing. "Yeah." The back of Jack's neck started to itch under the scrutiny, but just as quickly as he'd looked, Bunny turned his attention back to the door. "Just don't go mucking about playing pranks, you little yobbo. Don't want to come by and find you've frosted up the library."

"Library?" Jack asked, pricking up at the thought. That would definitely give him something to do in this hole in the ground. For all his friendly overtures, Jack still wasn't sure that Bunny was much good at entertaining a non-possibly marsupial mythical creature.

Bunny tilted his head towards the other end of the tunnel. "Yeah, down there a ways. Feel free to visit."

"Thanks, I will," Jack replied, finally giving a genuine smile. It faltered a little, though, when Bunny blinked at him, a strange look on his face.

"Yeah, well," Bunny said, clearing his throat and turning back to the door. "I'll let you get to it, then. Put out some fresh flowers to make the place seem a bit more homey, and the quilt on the bed's freshly laundered." He paused for a moment, seeming to be a bit at a loss. "I'll rustle up some tucker later on, and you can come get me if you need anything."

"Thanks," Jack repeated.

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, the silence lengthening-and then broke out laughing. It was like a spell of awkwardness had finally been lifted, and Jack was glad to see it go.

"Aw, enough of this then," Bunny finally said, wiping at an eye with his paw and turning to go. "I'll be around later, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jack replied, still smothering chuckles. He watched Bunny go, then turned back to his new room.

He opened the door and walked in, curiously examining the little bedroom. He realized abruptly that Bunny's definition of "fresh flowers" was a bit different than other hosts'. Instead of a tasteful vase full of fresh-cut flowers, Jack found a thick carpet of lush grass scattered with tiny white flowers covering the floor of his room. Wild thickets of ornate-looking flowers started in semi-organized flower beds and crept up the wall, creating the illusion that he was in some kind of floral sanctuary instead of a hole underground. He approached one of the flowers, a purple doozy with little yellow splotches, and marveled at the size of the blooms. He didn't know much about flowers, but he knew that they didn't usually grow so large or so beautiful. It had to be Bunny's magic; the plants in the room were bursting with vitality and Jack had an inkling that the seemingly random placement was actually coaxed into being with care.

He took a deep breath of the sweet, floral aroma and settled his pack on a small bed with a soft, cozy-looking quilt. Maybe he had been too quick to worry about Bunny's ability to welcome a more human guest into his home.


	2. Chapter 2

When Jack woke up the next morning, it was to little golden puffballs dangling lazily over his face. He squinted at them, trying to remember where exactly he was and why floating puffballs were in his direct line of vision. In an instant, it all came back to him, and he sprang up in bed to reorient himself.

His room was quiet, and to his surprise, the pretty purple and white flowers from the previous evening were gone. In their place, tall stalks of violet flowers lined the walls and the flower beds were full of white flowers shaped like a stars within stars. He looked behind him to see that the yellow puffballs were actually flowers spilling down over his headboard to hang above where his head would be. He stretched a hand out to touch the yellow blooms, and was it his imagination, or were they swaying towards him?

Shaking his head, Jack forced himself to think past his room's new decorations to the pooka who had put them there. Dinner with Bunny last night had been an experience, to say the least. The food, surprisingly enough, had been pretty good, for all that it was unrecognizable. Bunny had spouted a lot of nonsense words like "capsicum" and "swede" and then laughed when he had stared at him without comprehension. The problem was, according to Bunny, Jack just wasn't used to eating vegetables like a normal person.

Bunny, it turned out, was a vegetarian. Jack supposed it wasn't exactly a surprise, all things considered, but it still made a marked contrast from the food that North and Tooth had plied him with. North didn't seem to know the meaning of the word restraint, and had tried his best to fill up every inch of him with meat, potatoes, and every kind of cookie available, a development that Tooth had clucked over when she dropped by to invite him to her palace. In turn, she'd fed him heavily spiced food and apologized unendingly when he turned an unflattering puce and drank as much water as he could get his hands on. Bunny's food was delicious, for all its simplicity, and Jack found that he enjoyed it way more than he was going to let that cottontail know.

The company had also been very different. North had been boisterous, talking so much and so loudly that he never much seemed to notice if Jack was actually replying, whereas Tooth had kept up a steady stream of chatter interspersed with uncomfortably concerned and unnervingly knowingly looks. Dinner conversation with Bunny was much more bearable. They bickered playfully and when they fell silent, it was almost comfortable. Jack wondered if they would ever get to the point where their silences wouldn't be full of that unknowable weight, when the pauses between jibes wouldn't hold an unfamiliar promise.

Well. He probably wouldn't be sticking around long enough to find out.

He sighed and grabbed his staff where it stood propped up next to his bed, then pulled himself up and out of bed. He made his way out of the room and after only a couple wrong turns found himself back out in Bunny's sitting room.

Bunny was sitting in the large chair, which Jack now noticed was worn from years of steady use. A heavy tome was balanced in his lap, and Bunny looked completely engrossed. And sitting on his nose were-

"Bunny, you wear _glasses_?" he burst out.

"Gah!" The book clattered to the floor when Bunny jumped a good couple inches. "And a g'day to you too, Frostbite," Bunny said, bending over to pick up his book with a scowl.

"Oh man, they're so tiny," Jack said, completely ignoring Bunny's ire in order to float over to get a better look. His feet just barely skimmed the grass as he circled the chair, craning his neck to see. "Do you wear those things all the time?"

"Stop that," Bunny snapped.

Jack stopped short, surprised at the vehemence of the admonition. "Jeez, Bunny, it's not that big of a deal." He came back down to earth and crossed his arms around his staff.

Bunny took off his glasses and set them on a low, wooden table along with his books. "They're just for reading, ya dag," he said. He sounded much more composed now that Jack was sitting still, not that that prevented him from giving Jack a more unimpeded glare now that his eyes were bare.

"They're _adorable_," Jack teased, leaning right back into Bunny's personal space.

This time, Bunny seemed to be ready for him, and he simply shoved Jack out of his way as he stood up out of his chair. "Shut yer gob and come to the kitchen," he said as he walked out, not waiting for Jack to catch up. "I've got some brekkie in here for us both."

Jack snickered quietly as he trailed along after him. Brekkie.

"Here," Bunny had already gotten breakfast on the table by the time Jack was in there and seated. "Wattleseed porridge."

Oatmeal, Jack interpreted. It was good, too, the kind of solid breakfast that he would associate with Bunny. _Yeah_, he thought to himself, looking sidelong at Bunny, _Solid is a good word for him._

Bunny finished long before Jack did, but that was possibly just because he had a bigger mouth. (_Don't think about his mouth, Jack._) "So," he said, breaking Jack out of his train of not-thought. "Today I'm planning on doing some prep for Easter."

"Oh," Jack responded, visibly deflating. Well, it wasn't as if he'd expected Bunny to sit around and babysit him while he was there. He'd gotten more than enough of that from Tooth, honestly.

"I have some googies that have been clamoring for a fresh coat of paint, and some sweets I want to experiment with," Bunny continued. He paused for a moment, seeming to be having an internal argument which had been had many a time before, then said, "Would you care to help out?"

Jack gaped at him for a minute, not sure if he'd heard correctly. Sure, the other Guardians had helped Bunny out that one Easter over a decade ago, but that had been an emergency, and he had not asked for any of their help in the years since. Bunny was fiercely proud of his holiday and was not about to let a bunch of hooligans like them-like Jack-mess up his hard work. He reassured himself a few times that he was not hallucinating, not if the odd look Bunny was giving him was any mark to go by, and that Bunny had indeed asked him to help with Easter preparations. "Me?"

"Yeah, you, ya dill. Do you see anyone else sitting here at this table?" Bunny asked, giving him the eye.

Jack's mouth, which had apparently started hanging open of its own accord, shut with a snap. "No, I, uh. Um. Sure?"

And then Bunny was all smiles, albeit smirky ones. "Right, then. Meet me out in the garden when you're ready to face the day," he said, nodding towards Jack's unruly hair and half-eaten breakfast.

"Cool," Jack said as casually as he could possibly muster. "Yeah, I'll be out soon."

By the time Jack was cleaned up and ready, Bunny had set up shop not too far from the glittering river they had herded the eggs into last time Jack had been by to help him. He was sitting on a large, mossy rock and was painting a googie with loving detail. Jack had noticed that Bunny's usual eggs were usually quite a bit more intricate than the hastily dyed eggs they'd put together that one ill-fated Easter. Not that he'd been spying on Bunny's eggs on the past few Easters or anything. Not where he could be seen, anyway.

"Stop squirming, you little grubber," Bunny was admonishing absently as he tried to get the little egg's feet to stop flailing. He glanced up at Jack and grinned, which sent a warm rush down to his toes. He hadn't realized Bunny knew he was there yet. "The little mites are ticklish, don't you know."

Jack noticed all the sudden that Bunny was surrounded by a small army of little eggs, all hopping up and down and vying for Bunny's attention. "They seem excited," he said, slouching forward to lean on his staff.

"Yeah," Bunny said, and turned a fond eye down on the eggs. "They're a good lot." He finished up the egg in his hands, which immediately waddled off, presumably to get into trouble. "Oi, you watch where you walk until you're dry!" he called after it, and it gave a little wiggle of acknowledgment. Secure in his knowledge that his work most likely wouldn't be destroyed, Bunny turned his attention to a second set of paintbrushes he had sitting next to him on the rock. "These are for you, Jacko. Pull up a seat, make yourself comfortable."

"Oh, uh," Jack looked around for a good place to sit. When nothing really seemed to present itself to him, he shrugged and allowed himself to hover crosslegged not too far from Bunny, and then took the proffered brushes. "Thanks. So I just-" Jack trailed off, unsure.

"Here, Jack, let me show you. Just get a good grip," Bunny reached down and grabbed one of the eggs, "And give it a whirl. It's all right if the first few don't look quite right. The littlies don't mind."

His tone was surprisingly gentle, all things considered, and that just served to put Jack more on edge. He reached down to pick up an egg, but the moment he reached for one, they instantly scattered, fleeing round to hide behind Bunny. "Hey!" he exclaimed, much to Bunny's amusement. He looked up and gave Bunny an indignant look, but that only made him chuckle more.

Finally he took pity on Jack and said coaxingly to his eggs, "Aww, don't be like that, googies. Jack's an old cobber of mine and he'll paint you up nice and pretty." The eggs peeked out from behind Bunny, but their body language still screamed "unsure". "You should see what this bloke does with frost. It'd turn you green with envy to see what he paints on windows."

A couple of braver eggs tottered out from behind Bunny's rock to present themselves to a bemused Jack. Bunny liked his frost work? "I thought you didn't like ice, 'Roo," Jack said. He cupped his hands and held them out, and a little egglet hopped up into them. He held it securely and dabbed at it with a bit of blue paint. How on earth did Bunny get the paint so even?

"Practice, mate," Bunny replied, and Jack winced. Did he say that out loud? "And the white stuff's fine as long as it sticks around on windows in December where it belongs." He looked up from his new egg to give Jack a severe look, and Jack burst out laughing.

"Come on, Bunny, don't give me an opening like that." Jack put the brush down and brushed his fingers over the surface of the egg, sending the lightest dusting of frost swirling around the egg, sticking to it in his most intricate patterns.

"Oi! What did I just tell you, ya drongo!" Bunny exlaimed, sitting up taller and reaching for Jack's egg.

Jack floated just out of reach and cradled the egg to his chest. "Relax, Cottontail! I know what I'm doing!" He floated over to the river and gave the egg a good dunk, snickering a little as it kicked at him. Once it was properly covered, he blew gently on it, just enough to dry the dye, then brought it back for Bunny to inspect. The frost had melted away, leaving his blue paint visible through the glittering dye. "See?"

Bunny glared at the egg critically, as if to assure himself that it really was all right. It squirmed all the harder until Jack let it go, at which point it ran off to join its colored brethren. Bunny watched it go, his gaze now considering. "Using a bit of ice as resist, eh? Not a bad idea, Frost," he finally said, tone full of grudging admiration.

Jack gave him his most obnoxious grin. "All my ideas are good, rabbit."

"Oh?" Bunny gave him a look which Jack's mother definitely would have called the evil eye. "Does that include bringin' a blizzard down on my holiday?"

"...'68?" Jack asked with a wince.

"'68," Bunny confirmed with a grave finality only betrayed by a slight twinkle in his eyes.

"Well," Jack said, drawing the word out, "Maybe not all my ideas are that great."

"You got that right, bucko," Bunny agreed. He painted tiny diamonds on the egg in his paws in exacting silence, then finally said in a much softer voice, "You know why I worry, right, Jack? You get what's at stake."

Jack was quiet for a moment, his grip on his egg tightening until it gave him a solid kick and wriggled free of his grasp. He could still remember the shattered look on Bunny's face when the children ran through him, and the devastated note in Tooth's voice when her floating palace began to crumble. Jack knew what it was like to be ignored. He _knew_. To have that happen, and to know the additional cost that came from a Guardian losing power... Jack swallowed hard. "Yeah. I know."

Bunny's strokes were slow, methodical, as he spoke. "They're not just holidays, Jack, and they're not just stories. It's years of tradition, and belief that those traditions hold meaning. Sometimes that's all children have to hold onto. We're old enough to understand the way the world works, but the kiddiwinks are still grappling with that. One missed Easter can mean the world to a child, Jack. It can make them grow up too fast. Soon enough, the world starts leaking, and it's the good stuff that they lose. Wonder, hope, dreams, pleasant memories." He looked over at Jack then. "Joy. Those things aren't just important to us, Snowbird. It's our duty to help children keep those things while they're growing up so they can keep a sliver of it when they're grown. They need those things. It's like-it's like a flower without sunshine, Jack. They'll be stunted."

Jack's throat thickened and he closed his hands into fists. "I know all that now. I didn't... I was just playing around back then. I thought you were all just stick in the muds who didn't know a kid from a rock, and you needed a good snowball to the face. I didn't know what you were protecting," he said, voice low. The children, sure. Everyone knew that Guardians guarded children. But it wasn't just children; it was the beliefs that had to live on through them. It was the balance of all things, and that balance rested within the heart of a child. "But I know now." He couldn't not.

"I know you do, mate." Bunny halted his painting and inspected his work. "And that's why I know you'll be a great Guardian."

"What?" Jack was sure he couldn't have heard that correctly. "But I, I barely even have any believers!"

"And? What of it? You're gaining 'em every day. And by Spring, Jack, those little rug rats love you. I'm not sure I've ever seen loyalty so strong for an idea so fragile. You don't leave presents under a tree or quarters under pillows, or even chocolate eggs for the kiddies to find. And I'll admit I was the first one to doubt that you could do it. But they've been talkin' about you, Jack. I've been listening. And to them, you're in the frost on their windows and the wind blowing at night. They're not afraid of the winter storms anymore, y'know. Say it's just Jack Frost whistling. And that," he said pointedly, "Is something great."

Bunny stood up from his perch, grunted softly as he stretched out long limbs. Then he handed his egg to Jack, a still one without legs, and started back to the den. "You take that one, Jack. You've earned it."

Jack blinked mysteriously stinging eyes and looked down at the egg Bunny had given him. It was a winter's night, dusted with snow and stars, and in the sky, a young man laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Jack saw the next morning was his little egg, securely nestled on the table next to his bed. He blinked at it through gummy eyes. It had taken him longer to fall asleep the previous night than he cared to admit. He'd tossed and turned all night, thinking about his believers, so few but so loyal, and wondered if he would ever manage to get more. He wondered if he was being too greedy, hoping for more than he already had. Most of all, he wondered what that look had been in Bunny's dark eyes when he'd looked at him the night before, when they'd passed each other in the sitting room and said good night. It had been something quiet and bright, and Jack was almost frightened to put a name to it.

Best not to think too hard on it. He'd get worry lines and then where would he be? There was no way he'd be able to bring kids joy if he sat around bellyaching all the time.

He sat up in bed, and though he was expecting to have a new set of flora in his room this morning, he was not expecting the splash of color now decorating his room. The enormous purple blooms adorning his room looked more like sea creatures than flowers, and as he drew nearer to the closest one, he realized that there were bits of green, white, and yellow interspersed with the varying shades of purple. Wavy violet tendrils reached up from the flower's petals as if demanding attention, and Jack couldn't help but give it. The flower was gaudy, frankly, and edged on being ugly. It was just flashy enough, though, just sure enough of its own beauty, that it truly was impressive rather than silly. He grinned. He felt like he had a kindred spirit in this one.

With more pep in his step, Jack felt like whistling as he flew down the hall to the kitchen. He indulged in a spin or two, but kept the ice under control as he flew through the warren. You never could tell where Bunny was keeping his flowers in this place.

He seated himself at the kitchen table with flourish and grinned at a wide-eyed Bunny. "Morning, Bunny. What's shakin'?"

"Crikey. You're a chipper one this morning," Bunny said, shaking his head and taking a swig of tea.

"Yeah." Jack grinned dopily at Bunny for a moment before he caught himself and forced himself to fix himself a cup of tea. He hid his feelings in his cup, eyes away from Bunny's, as he said, "I don't know. I'm just feeling really good today."

"Onya, mate," Bunny replied, and the fondness in his voice made Jack do a double-take. All that for him?

Jack worried at his bottom lip, then washed away the sting with a sip of tea. He could get used to this whole tea-in-the-morning thing. It gave him a serious buzz. He surveyed Bunny over the rim of his cup, and noted that Bunny was swallowing more than usual. Surely he wasn't getting sick. Could Guardians even get sick? "Can Guardians get sick?"

Bunny blinked at him, temporarily thrown by the shift in conversation. "Er. Depends on how the belief is going, I reckon. Why, feeling a bit crook?" he asked, starting to look concerned.

"No!" Jack paused. "I don't think so. What does that mean?"

Despite his concern, Bunny rolled his eyes. "You feeling all right, Frostbite?"

"No, I'm fine! Really," Jack said, smiling as persuasively as he could. "I was just wondering." _Stop making things awkward, Jack!_ Time for a change of subject. "So, what are the plans for today?"

Bunny squinted at him as if he could see the inner workings of Jack's body if he just looked hard enough, but seemed to take him at his word. "Well, yesterday I never got around to the sweets. Not a problem, still got a good two months 'til Easter, but it'd be apples if you'd help me out with that today. Never hurts to have a second mouth around for testing."

Jack brightened. Candy testing? Now this was something he was sure he'd be good at. "I think I could be persuaded to eat candy all day," he drawled.

"Thought you might," Bunny said, hiding a half smile. "I'll show you the confectionery after breakfast."

* * *

The confectionery was _awesome_. Bunny had led him to a large room deep in the den full of pots and pans hung above what appeared to be some kind of magical fire. It neither used fuel nor gave off smoke, and it apparently heated evenly and gently enough, and the temperature controllable enough that Bunny said it "wouldn't scorch the chockie". And the best part was that it seemed to change colors whenever it felt like it, a dizzying array of blues, greens, reds, and purples. An assortment of treats were in jars and baskets around the room, and ingredients were stacked up in an attached larder that probably could have fed Jack's entire village for a week. The place was a whirlwind of colors, smells, and tastes, and Jack was in heaven.

"Now what are you doing? Is it almost ready?"

Bunny gave him a cross look from the pot he was constantly stirring. "I'm tempering the chocolate, Snowbird. Show a bit of patience for once in your life."

"But it smells so good," Jack whined. He'd gotten awfully good at whining that day. He'd learned that if he turned his big, baby blues on Bunny, there was an awfully good chance that he'd give in and give Jack a treat. He'd been given chocolates with decadent creams inside, jelly beans with flavors he couldn't begin to describe, licorice so potent that it made his lips numb, and a dozen more things besides. Jack knew he was careening towards his own personal sugar coma, but it was more than worth it. "Come on, just a taste."

Bunny looked over at him, then sighed. He pulled out a clean spoon from one of the many drawers fitted against the wall and dipped it into the chocolate. "It'd taste a lot better if you'd wait until I finished the rest of it, but you'll just have to make do with this for now."

"Oh, the pain. How will I cope?" Jack gave Bunny a cheeky little grin as he took the spoon, then gave it a lick. For all that Bunny protested, it really was pretty great. No wonder the kids loved Bunny so much. His chocolate was enough to make you believe in any number of mythical creatures.

It wasn't until he'd given up on licking off the chocolate and just popped the spoon in his mouth that he noticed Bunny had stopped stirring. "Aren't you supposed to keep stirring that?"

"What?" Bunny seemed to snap out of a bit of a trance, and then looked down at his chocolate. "Bloody hell!"

Jack snickered. "If that's too much for you, cottontail, I'm sure I could help you out," he teased.

Bunny gave him a dire look. "Like I'd trust you anywhere near this pot after all the candy you've gone through. I don't know where you're putting it all. It's inhuman, mate."

Jack nodded, unperturbed. "You're right. But to be fair, I'm not exactly human anymore."

Bunny's steady rhythm skipped for a just a minute. "Now just a minute, mate, you know I wasn't serious about that. Right?" he said, tone serious. He went on, "I just never knew you had quite so much of a sweet tooth."

"Oh yeah," Jack said, leaning back against a piece of kitchen equipment he didn't recognize. "I love this stuff. If there's one thing that's been fun about being around this long, it's been getting to try out all the new candies that children are always carrying around with them." And if a few of those candies occasionally went missing, it's not like the kids generally noticed. Or so Jack told himself. He considered it a reward for all the fun they had together.

"Yeah, I bet," Bunny said, shaking his head. "You know, North has quite the sweet tooth as well."

"You're telling me," Jack said with a twirl of his staff. "Even I couldn't keep down all the stuff he kept giving me. Candy canes... Cookies... Candy cane cookies... I swear, he must have an entire platoon of yetis he keeps around just to feed him."

Bunny chuckled as he started to dip his whatever-they-were into the successfully tempered chocolate. "Ain't that the truth. The children are saying that his belly jiggles like a bowl full of jelly now, and they're not too far off. You better watch yourself now, Jacko, or you might turn out like him," he said, pointing at Jack with his spoon.

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said, sidling over so he could snitch one of Bunny's finished creations.

"Oi, did I say you could have that?"

"Well, you did tell me that you wanted me to test out your new creations," Jack said, using his best sugar-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth voice. Unfortunately, Bunny had just watched more than a little sugar just melt in his mouth, so the voice did absolutely nothing to soften his glare. "At least it tastes-" Jack took a bite. "Oh my god, it tastes _amazing_. You were right, it tastes way better now."

"Of course I was," Bunny said, and for a moment looked unbearably smug. "I'm always right."

Jack may have been well on his way to that sugar coma by now, but he could still recognize his own words on Bunny's lips. He stuck out his tongue, which made Bunny reach out and gently chuck him under the chin. "Ow!"

"Keep that in your head unless you're making use of it, ya dill."

And if that offhand remark made Jack's cheeks go a rosy lilac, Bunny didn't say a word.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack moaned softly when he next woke up. Okay, yes, those last few pieces of chocolate had not been a wise idea. Still, they had tasted amazing and who knew when Bunny would offer something like that again?

He rolled over and shoved his face under his pillow. _No regrets._

After several more minutes of quiet suffering, Jack finally forced himself out from under his pillow and out into the light. He had come to look forward to Bunny's flowers, and today they did not disappoint. Large conical flowers in pink, white, and purple swayed by his door and the ground was dotted with hundreds of tiny white flowers that looked sad somehow, as if they were weeping. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. The tone couldn't be much more different from the previous day's if Bunny had tried, but they were undeniably beautiful. As he readied himself for the day, Jack ran his fingers through the little white blooms and wondered for the first time how Bunny chose these flowers. Probably just an aesthetic thing. Bunny was, as ever, an artist.

Still pondering this, Jack made his way to the kitchen only to find it empty. He frowned at his own solitude, wondering where Bunny had run off to. It was only after he fetched himself some breakfast (Ha! He was finally starting to find his way around this place!) that he found the note.

_Jack,_

_Waited up for a bit, but I couldn't wait all morning for a lazybones like you. Easter's on its way and I have a schedule to keep. Fruit's in the icebox, help yourself. Come round and find me when you're done._

_Yours,  
Bunny_

Jack's face did something complicated as he read the note. He'd been close to sticking out his tongue at the crack at the beginning, but that ending... Honestly, Jack wasn't entirely sure to make of it. Was that how Bunny signed all his notes? He shook himself and went to eat his fruit. Had to be.

Later, Jack wandered for a good hour, cursing himself for seven times a fool for even beginning to think that he could find his way around the sprawling wilderness that was Bunny's warren. When he finally spotted his friend, he was surprised to see that Bunny appeared to be asleep.

Bunny was sprawled out on a sunny hilltop, dye on his pawpads and eggs milling around him, which gave Jack a clear enough picture of what had happened. Without really thinking about it, Jack took a seat next to Bunny and gave himself a few minutes just to watch him sleep. This should have been his first warning. Even just a few years ago, he would have taken this golden opportunity to dump dye on Bunny's head. Now, though, all he wanted to do was lay back, enjoy the sunshine, and listen to the quiet breaths of his companion.

Bunny looked far less stressed while sleeping than he did during the day, always flitting around trying to get things accomplished. And that was even with Jack's sneaking suspicion that Bunny had slowed his production a good deal during his visit. Now, the grumpy lines around his eyes had finally eased, and Jack wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel where they had been. Bunny's fur looked unbearably soft, sun-warmed as it was, and it took just about all of Jack's self-control not to touch.

Jack was so caught up in his quiet observation that he didn't even notice Bunny's eyes slit open until he murmured, "Sorry 'bout that, Jacko. Must have tuckered myself out getting the googies dressed and ready."

Jack started at the sound of his sleep-roughened voice, but managed to cover for it admirably, if he did say so himself. "And you call me lazy? For shame, 'Roo," he teased, reclining back on his elbows so he and Bunny were at roughly the same height.

"Aw, belt up," Bunny snarked drowsily, then stretched out to his full length with a quiet grunt.

Jack tried to ignore the way his mouth went dry. "Whatever, Bunny." The retort sounded weak even to his own ears. He blamed it on the sunshine softening his head. He was an ice spirit; he wasn't supposed to be out here roasting in the sun. Still, he had to admit that it was nice out here. He felt more relaxed than he had in months, which is a twist that he never would have guessed. "Hey, Bunny?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks for kidnapping me-"

"Oi, what do you mean, kidnapping?"

Jack laughed and put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You're right, that was North. But thanks for convincing me to give the warren a try, I guess. It's..." He paused, looking out into the warren's odd half-light horizon. He took in the shimmering rivers of dye, the rock guardians, the eggs bouncing at the edge of their clearing for attention, and of course, the flora covering every available surface. "It's actually really great here."

Bunny twitched an ear at him in acknowledgement, then turned his head to look at Jack measuringly. "That so, Frostbite?"

Jack shrugged. "Yeah. It's peaceful here. Never thought I could like a place so green, but you make it work," he said. He tried to inject a little bit of humor into his voice so maybe Bunny would stop looking at him like that.

If anything, though, Bunny's gaze intensified. He looked at Jack so seriously that Jack could see the gears turning in his head, the possibilities being weighed. Then slowly, haltingly, Bunny said, "It reminds me of home."

Jack frowned. "Home? I thought this was your home," he said.

Bunny closed his eyes for several long minutes, an expression of pain shuddering over his face so quickly and with such force that for a moment, Jack thought he had imagined it. "It's the closest I'm going to get on this world," he finally said. Carefully.

Jack rolled over onto his side so he could better look at Bunny. "What do you mean, 'this world'?" he asked.

"What, you think this is the only one?" Bunny scoffed. "Silly galah. There are countless worlds. Or there were." He didn't say anything for a long time, and even though the words were on the tip of his tongue, Jack didn't ask what happened. Finally, he continued, "There were wars once. Terrible ones. World-destroying ones." He paused a moment longer before finally biting out the word that made things clear: "Pitch."

With just that word, a terrible realization washed over Jack. He'd asked Tooth once what a giant bunny was doing running his own holiday and Tooth had informed him that Bunny was actually a pooka. Jack had never thought to ask about why there weren't any more, though. Now he wished he had. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"'Course you didn't. It's all right, Frostbite. No one knows the old stories anymore. People change, and their stories change with them. The new stories are about a giant rabbit that comes once a year to bring treats, or even a bloody Easter bilby nowadays." He snorted derisively. "That's the thing about stories, mate. The truth doesn't matter nearly as much as a good yarn. Something happens and people tell that story, but they tell it the way they want it to go. There's adventure and romance and a happy ending. There's Hope. No one mentions how war wears at you, or that bone-deep chill you get when your friends or family fall one by one, and you never know if you might be next. No one mentions that the most terrifying thing of all turned out to be being the only one left. The stories talk about the Easter Bunny, not the pooka. It's easier that way. And eventually, people forget the truth. They only remember the old tales their parents told them before they went to bed every night, and those are the tales they tell their own little ankle biters." His voice was threaded through with something eerie, something haunted. "Sometimes I worry I might forget the truth as well."

Jack swallowed around the swirl of emotions building up his throat, forced himself to push down the horror and the concern and the grief. All that was left, sticking in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get rid of, were his memories, consumed too quickly to ever be properly digested. "You know," he said, voice low, "When people talk about Jack Frost, they never talk about the night he died."

Bunny's gaze sharpened. "What d'you mean?"

Jack's heart was beating fast now, and for once, it had nothing to do with Bunny's proximity. He had never talked about his memories since he had glimpsed them during the fight with Pitch. Tooth, kindly enough, had never pressed him, and the others had never thought to, he assumed. After the fight, he had gone over them with a ravenous sort of hunger, need making him greedy. It was all there now, jumbled in a way that even now he was still trying to tangle through, bits and bobs from a life he couldn't believe he had forgotten. He'd guarded them zealously, as if they would all fly away again the second he let go. But for Bunny, maybe he could. Let go, that is.

"It was what was in the memories I got from my box of teeth. I was just a normal guy a few hundred years ago, but one day my sister and I were playing on the ice..." Jack knew his eyes were faraway now, but Bunny didn't press him. "It wasn't frozen enough. We didn't know until it started to crack, and Emma- If I hadn't done anything, she would have fallen through and I couldn't let that happen. So we played a little game. A hopping game, just so she could get close enough so I could save her. And I did!" He couldn't keep the pride out of his voice at that. If there was one thing he would never regret, it would be saving Emma. "But the ice was too weak, and I fell through."

"You froze?" Bunny asked, as if afraid of the answer.

"Yeah." Jack attempted a smile, but it came out way too weak. "Bet you never knew how apropos 'Frostbite' really was, huh?"

"Jack, I-"

"But you know," Jack pressed on, not wanting to hear whatever Bunny had to say. "I _did_ forget what happened when the Moon brought me back. And that's not an experience I'd like to repeat, thanks. I may not know what it's like to lose your whole world, but I know what it's like when the world loses you. But even then, the kids would mention me every now and then. Nothing big, it's not like they actually believed in me, but they'd say my name every so often. And even when even I didn't know my real story, the stories they told about me were about fun." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "I hear that all stories have a kernel of truth, and I think that's true. No one knew the truth about me back then, but the kids still knew my center. And even if they don't know about the pooka, kids never forget that you bring hope. So I don't think you ever have to worry about forgetting about your past, either, Bunny. The kids know what's important, and they can remind us if we start to forget."

Jack fell silent, trying the concept on in his heart, and realizing that it fit. He would never again forget the beat of pure, blissful relief that had gone through him when he'd seen Emma to safety. It was the same relief he felt when he finally figured out how to stop Pitch, and there was a pinch of it along with the joy he felt every time he made a kid smile. That steady thrum of _joy_ that got under his skin, under his very bones, that he felt whenever a kid laughed or threw a snowball was what kept him going. And there was a little bit of Emma in there every single time.

Bunny was quiet for a long, long time, and Jack started to think that he'd said exactly the wrong thing despite his best efforts. And then, "Aster."

"What?" Jack asked.

Bunny reached out his paw to take Jack's hand in his. "My name is Aster. My real one, I mean. E. Aster Bunnymund."

Jack gripped Aster's paw tightly and swallowed hard. "Nice to meet you, Aster. I'm Jackson Overland."

They didn't let go for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack woke up that morning to the sound of quietly rustling leaves. He opened his eyes sleepily, then sat bolt upright in his bed when he realized what the source of the sound was. Fresh twigs were starting to peek out from behind his door frame, and he could see that his wardrobe already had full branches pulling up and away from the wood against the curved walls of his room. Right before his eyes, the twigs and branches started to sprout leaves, and then tight little buds that blossomed into delicate pink flowers. Soon enough, the branches were covered in a downy covering of soft, pink blooms.

Looking down from his bed, Jack saw that little white tufts were scattered around in the grass along with purple flowers that looked terribly familiar. He swung his legs out of his bed and onto the floor with one swift motion, then knelt in front of the flower. Yes, he had definitely seen this one before. He squinted at it, trying to place the source of the half-remembered image... and then it clicked. He had seen this flower follow Bunny when he created tunnels. (No. Aster. They followed Aster.) Jack could only credit his sleep-hazed mind for why it took him so long to figure it out; nowadays, he almost considered this flower to be Aster's signature bloom. Carefully, he plucked one of the purple flowers from the floor, half-expecting Aster to come storming into the room to complain about Jack mistreating his precious flowers. But there was nothing but the quiet sounds of new growth as slim branches drew patterns on dirt walls.

* * *

Despite Aster's vague directions, it took quite a bit of exploration for Jack to find his library. Five days was not nearly enough time to learn the ins and outs of this warren. Privately, Jack wasn't even sure a lifetime would suffice.

Even after he reached the library, it took him awhile to find any books that were particularly helpful, largely because Aster did not seem to have any discernible rhyme or reason to his library, but he eventually found himself seated in a comfortable old chair with a thick stack of books on botany. He opened up the one that looked most promising, _A Brief Encyclopedia of Flora, Volume I_, and blinked in surprise.

"Huh," he muttered to himself. The book appeared to be handwritten, with little scrawled notes clustered around the main entries. More importantly, however, it also appeared to be hand-illustrated. Jack paged through picture after picture of every flower he could conceive of. He was hoping to spot a picture of the purple flower from that morning, and with the length of this book, it seemed sure to be in there. "Jeez. If this is 'brief', I hate to think of what an in-depth book would be."

After a couple more volumes of the encyclopedia, he finally found what he was looking for. "An... aster. Well, I guess that makes sense," Jack said to himself, leaning forward in his seat to study the entry.

"Aster… in the family Asteraceae… derived from a word meaning "star"... popular garden plant… used to be believed to drive away snakes… in the flower language, means 'love, contentment, and patience'..." he mumbled to himself as he read. He sat back to consider this. "Love, contentment, and patience, huh? Hey, I wonder if any of the other flowers are in here..."

A couple hours later, Jack was still buried in the encyclopedia. Some of the flowers were a lot easier than others, and Jack wished with several loud and gusty sighs that the unknown author had just arranged the entries by color. Still, though, all of the flowers were present in the books, and he was discovering that each one had a specific history and meaning. The mayflowers had been a welcome, and the irises had coyly informed him that he was being given a message. Jack felt a lump form in his throat when he discovered that the white star of bethlehem, purple heather, and yellow acacia had symbolized reconciliation, change for the better and admiration, and friendship respectively. Those flashy purple and green passion flowers had meant "belief", and Jack could remember the way those bright, friendly flowers had made him feel so much better the morning after a night tormented by his lack of believers.

The snowy flowers he had found on his fourth morning in the warren were a little more confusing. According to the book, calla lilies meant "beauty" and snowdrops meant "hope". Was Aster talking about the beauty of hope? Perhaps encouraging him to have faith, that things would eventually fall into place? Jack felt a pang in his chest. He wasn't so sure things would be that easy. His budding relationship with the other Guardians was fledgling at best and he still worried that it would all fall apart around his ears. Surely they would all remember how much of a thorn in their side he'd been, or they'd notice the way that children weren't coming around to the idea of Jack Frost, or maybe, worst of all, they would notice the way that his eyes lingered just a bit too long on a certain rabbit. That particularly problem was only getting worse the longer he stayed here in the warren with Aster. It had been a lot easier when they were still snapping each others heads off. Now that they were sharing meals, and worse, emotions, Jack wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep his feelings hidden.

He shook himself from those decidedly un-fun thoughts and went back to the book, wanting to see what that tree this morning had meant. It looked like it was flowering almond, which was hope again... and the tiny white clover surrounding his bed meant "think of me" or "notice me". Did Aster want him to figure out his messages? Was he maybe more interested in attention from others than he seemed? Or did he just want Jack to pay attention to him more often?

Jack sat back in his chair with a sigh and looked up at the ceiling as if it could somehow hold the answers to his questions. Like its creator, it remained earthy, dependable, and utterly inscrutable.

* * *

That evening at dinner, Jack could feel Aster's curious eyes on him long before he finally spoke up. "Didn't see you around much today. Everything all right?"

"Oh yeah," Jack said. "It's just, you seemed really tired yesterday. I thought I'd give you some space today."

A shade of wariness came into Aster's eyes. "So you just kept yourself occupied all day in my warren?" he asked suspiciously.

Jack laughed at that old expression making a comeback. It was almost welcome after how emotionally charged the day before had been. "Relax, Aster. I didn't do anything untoward to your precious warren. Just kind of poked around. Nothing important," he reassured him. Jack wasn't entirely sure why he didn't want to tell Aster the details of what he'd been up to that day, but it seemed like there was still a piece of the mystery that he was missing. He didn't want to talk about it until he was sure that Aster even really meant those flowers as a real message

Aster, for his part, was already starting to look appeased at the use of his real name, and Jack's reassuring tone seemed to be enough to put his quick mind at ease. "Fair enough, mate. Gonna turn in early tonight, yeah? Couldn't keep the googies properly corralled today. I think having someone else in the warren's put ants in their pants," he said with a chuckle.

Jack gave him a weak laugh in return. "Sorry about that."

"Never you mind, Jacko. I'll come find you bright and early tomorrow morning." With that, he put away the remnants of their meal and took his leave.

Jack watched him leave. Somehow, all he could wonder was which flowers would find him first.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Jack woke up to find yet another tree wending its way through his room. Dark gray and gnarled, it didn't seem especially welcoming, but dark red tulips were nestled around the base of his door, lending the tree a brighter, more encouraging look. He smirked to himself a little. See? He knew a _couple_ flowers.

Jack felt around until he found the books he had hidden underneath his bed, and then pulled them out. After a little bit of perusing, he found the tree: black poplar. According to the book, black poplar was for courage. Courage for whom, though? Surely Aster wasn't afraid of anything. Jack had seen him run headlong into battle more times than he could count, and save a little nervousness at the thought of a certain flying vehicle, Aster had never shown much fear towards anything.

Things became simultaneously clearer and infinitely more confusing when he found the book's entry for tulips. It seemed like tulips could mean everything and more depending on their coloring. These were the deep, luxurious red of North's suit, which apparently acted as a declaration of love. Jack squinted at the book, double and triple checking the entry against the flowers unassumingly swaying by his door. A declaration of love? It couldn't be. Nothing on earth could be more unlikely, especially considering the source.

Aster wasn't the sort of person who would be giving red tulips to Jack Frost. Not to the guy who regularly frosted his long ears and set sparkling, icy ferns on Aster's precious googies. Not to the guy who had been a thorn in his side for well over three hundred years. Definitely not to the guy he only invited over after a mutual friend had pestered him. But maybe... Just maybe... Aster had seemed uncharacteristically twitchy this visit. Jack had just assumed that it was because he was unused to sharing his warren with an excitable ball of snowfall, but maybe it was something else. Something a bit more personal. Maybe the thick silences had been felt and encouraged by both sides. Maybe the way Aster stiffened when Jack got too close wasn't because of the sudden chill, but instead a warmer emotion. Maybe Jack wasn't the only one who hungered for more contact. Not just physical, but something emotional and meaningful.

Jack felt something flutter in his chest and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He tried to squelch the hope rising up in his heart, but it was too late. What had started out as a butterfly's rustle had grown into a bird's frantic thrashing searching for an outlet. He groaned and put his face in his hands, bringing his knees up to his chest like they could keep flapping wings contained. This wasn't good. Not at all. He knew that those easy conversations, those lazy days resting in lush grass, that paw clasped in his hand... He knew that all of those had sunk deep hooks into his heart a long time ago, but hope set those hooks tugging anew. But if he was going to be completely honest with himself, it was likely that he was reading far too much into all of this. His head was full of maybes, but the most likely one of all was that maybe Aster just liked the striking way red tulips looked against dark wood.

But still. Still. Jack peeked from between his fingers at the books which still lay unassumingly on his quilt. Knowing how to reply to a red tulip couldn't hurt. He uncurled just enough to drag the nearest book into his lap, then started to page through. When he finally found the flower which meant "I share your sentiments", he couldn't help but give a strangled laugh.

"Figures."

* * *

"Oi, Jacko! You planning on lazing about in bed all day?"

Jack looked up from the page he had been studying for the past hour with a yelp, nearly tumbling from his bed in surprise. Was it really that late already? "No! I, uh, I'll be right out."

"Yeah?" He could hear Aster shift on the other side of his door. "You all right in there, Jack?"

Jack winced at the unmistakable concern in Aster's voice. "Yeah, I'm good! I was just reading," he called through the door as he eased himself out of the bed that he was starting to become far too comfortable in.

"Reading?"

"Yeah," Jack said, opening the door and smirking at Aster. "I do know how, you know."

Aster looked over his head at the books still splayed on the bed. He hummed skeptically, but let it slide, moving to let Jack exit the room and then leading the way back to the kitchen. "Anything interesting?" he asked, and Jack couldn't quite tell if the note of curiosity in his voice was feigned or if the overlaying indifference was.

"Mmhmm. I found some old books in your library-you said I could go anywhere in the warren, so I didn't think you'd mind me going in there," Jack said, seating himself at the little table. Aster batted an ear at him in acknowledgment as he mucked around with whatever food he had prepared by the sink, and Jack took that as his cue to continue. "They're about flowers."

Aster stiffened for a moment so brief that Jack almost wondered if he'd imagined it, then turned around with bowls of something that looked warm, appetizing, and completely foreign. "Oh? Didn't know that was a subject you had much interest in, Jacko," he said, and this time Jack was sure that it was the indifference that was feigned, not the hesitant curiosity.

"Yeah, well, it's not usually my thing. I'm usually better at freezing flowers than growing them." He gave Aster a cheeky grin before taking a bite of his breakfast. "Hey, this is pretty good!"

The wariness that had started to creep into Aster's eyes vanished in the face of a perceived slight. "Oi! You don't have to sound so surprised, you little blighter!" he said, eyes flashing.

Jack flashed and held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the food, rabbit," he said with a laugh. He looked down at the food and played with his fork for a moment, avoiding Aster's gaze.

"Anyway, I thought it might be fun to figure out what all those flowers you keep planting in my room were. I mean, since you put so much effort into them."

Now it was Aster's turn to look away. "It weren't no big thing. Avatar of spring and all that. A few flowers didn't take much effort, and Tooth was telling me that it was polite to put out fresh flowers to welcome someone into your home."

"Yeah, but they're usually cut!" Jack cut in. "I wasn't expecting my room to be turned into some exotic greenhouse every morning."

Aster's ears immediately went back. "I wouldn't give you dead flowers!" he said, sounding revolted by the very idea.

Jack couldn't help but smile at that. Of course the Guardian of new life wouldn't like cut flowers. When he thought about it, it did seem like kind of a macabre tradition, killing something beautiful to express devotion to someone you love. "Nah, I know you wouldn't. I like your way a lot better. It was kind of fun to see what you'd come up with every day."

"Oh?" Aster asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, taking another bite of his breakfast, hoping he looked more nonchalant than he felt. "Mayflowers and irises, then acacia, heather, and star of bethlehem, lilies and snowdrops, passion flowers, flowering almond, white clover, asters-" he sneaked a glance over at Aster, "-and finally black poplar and red tulips, right?"

"Ah... Yeah. Good onya, finding all those in those old books," Aster said, starting to seem a bit wary again.

"It wasn't so hard. I couldn't figure out how the flowers were organized, but the illustrations in the books were great. It was easy to tell them apart and figure out which was which," Jack answered.

Aster made a dismissive sound and flicked his ears. "Nah, those were just some old things I scrapped together during the lull after Easter one year. Thought it might be nice to have a guide lying around," he said with a wave of his paw.

Jack's eyes snapped up to Aster's unimpressed ones. "You drew all those illustrations? But they're beautiful!"

Aster rolled his eyes. "Again, Jack, you don't have to sound so surprised. It's not as if my holiday is wholly dependent on artistic ability or anything," he said with a playful swat towards Jack's head.

Jack clutched at his head melodramatically. "Cut it out! I will never doubt your drawing skills again. Seriously, man, that's really cool." He paused, mentally preparing for his next question. "All that other stuff in there, though, like the stories and the meanings and all that. Do you really believe in all that?"

Aster stilled, all playfulness forgotten. "Yeah. Always been a bit fond of the meanings, myself. Namby-pamby bullshit, really, but..."

Jack cleared his throat and tried to will his heart to slow down for a couple minutes so he could think clearly. "Yeah-yeah, I liked that part, too."

Aster caught his gaze then, eyes serious and searching. "That so, Jack?"

For all that he wanted to, Jack couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. "Yeah," he answered, and his voice sounded like a croak to his own ears. "In fact, there was a flower I wanted to give you, too."

Aster's eyebrows shot up at this. "Didn't know you'd taken up horticulture, mate." The joke fell flat, though, as the last syllable shook.

Jack just shook his head, then pushed back his plate, cupped his hands together, and concentrated. He'd practiced this all morning, just in case, and now it seemed like-! He cut that thought down where it stood, knowing there was no way he could let his emotions get away from him if he wanted to get this right.

A sparkle of frost materialized between his hands, then started to form delicate shapes. A leaf emerged, then a stem. Petals sprouted one by one, creating an ethereal bloom made entirely of ice. He carefully set the ice flower on the table in front of him, then went to work on creating its twin. When both flowers were whole and shimmering on the table in front of them, he gathered them up in his hands and, with a little coaxing, managed to twine their stems together. Then, barely daring to breathe, he pushed them towards Aster. "Here," he muttered, well aware that a violet blush was starting to climb up out of his collar and onto his cheeks.

He needn't have worried. Aster took the blooms with something like reverence, and held them up to the light to examine more closely. "A double aster," he said, voice awed.

"Yeah, well," Jack started, voice quavering beneath his bravado, "I mean, I don't know much about growing actual flowers, and I didn't even really know if you meant-mean-what the book said, and if you don't and I'm just imagining all this between us now, please just let me know now and put me out of my misery, jeez, and if this is the wrong thi-"

"Jack," Aster interrupted him, laying one furred paw on top of Jack's hand. "It's beautiful. It's _perfect_."

Jack looked up then, and his breath caught at what he saw in Aster's expression. Happiness and something soft filled his eyes, something that Jack was scared to put a name to. "Aster, I-"

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd meant to say, but either way, his thoughts came to a grinding halt when Aster rose from his chair so he could crouch down next to Jack and press his nose up against Jack's cheek, nose, ear in a nuzzle that warmed him to his bones. Jack put his arms around Aster's neck, tangling his fingers in velveteen fur, and when Aster returned the favor, Jack turned his head just slightly so his could press a kiss to the edge of Aster's mouth.

Both of them stayed like that for long moments, just breathing each other in, and that sixth sense in the back of his head, the one that resonated with the joy of those around him, sang out in triumph.

* * *

A/N: And one day, a long time from now, Aster will finally man up and tell Jack that a double aster is actually a kind of aster, not two asters put together. Jack will whine and moan that their entire relationship is built on lies, and Aster will roll his eyes because mistakenly created or not, he still keeps those enchanted asters in a safe place in their home. He always will.

One more chapter, everyone! More of an epilogue, really. Hang tight!


	7. Chapter 7

Jack roused slowly the next morning, still pulsing with the joy he'd felt and instilled the day prior. As much as he'd enjoyed the cuddling, they had eventually pulled apart to finish their cold breakfast. They'd talked while they ate. After all, they had a lot to talk about. The rest of the day had sort of been a blur of them trying to actually accomplish things and becoming far too distracted by soft eyes and softer kisses to do anything worthwhile. Yes, it had been a very good day.

For how much longer, though? Jack frowned and opened his eyes, staring at his ceiling. He was only supposed to be staying with Aster for a week, and as enjoyable as yesterday had been, today was his last day. Would Aster still want him to swing by, or did he want his home back? Some of the initial elation from their confessions died down in his heart as he considered logistics. Both of them had their jobs, and neither of them particularly coincided. And a week was one thing, but would they get on each others' nerves if given time? Would they drift apart again, just friends and coworkers if given space?

Jack sighed and sat up in bed, his happy flurries starting to feel a lot more like the next day's slush. He looked around the room that he would soon be leaving, letting his eyes linger on the honeyed wood dresser and the cozy chair in the corner, all furniture that he had come to be fond of. Something seemed off, however, and it was a moment before he realized that his room was not the usual riot of colors that it usually was after Aster's blooms took root. Instead, there was a lone flower in front of his door, a tiny pale-blue bloom with little white bits in the middle, and it seemed a bit plaintive in its solitude.

He frowned, then reached for the now-familiar books beside his bed. After a moment or two, a slow smile spread across his face as he identified the strange, solitary flower. Flax.

Jack bolted out of his bed, just barely keeping his feet on the floor and his frost off the fragile greenery carpeting the ground as he rushed out the door. He was going so quickly that he nearly collided with Aster, who was just raising his fist to knock on Jack's door. "Jack? I-"

"Yes," he announced, placing a quick kiss on a bemused Aster's nose. "I'd love to stay here with you."

Predicting the future was not in Jack's particular skill set, and he was sure that they would get on each others' nerves plenty in the coming days (weeks? months? years?), but it was a lot easier to be hopeful when the living embodiment of it was nuzzling behind his ear and pushing him back into his room.

* * *

The next morning, Jack blinked himself awake in an unknown environment. It took a few bewildering moments before he placed the mossy walls and the warm, fuzzy weight behind him. Oh right. Aster had invited him into his room the night before, just to sleep. He'd fallen asleep tangled up in limbs far too long and furry to fit as well against him as they did.

"Go back to sleep, Snowdrop," Aster rumbled behind him, nosing at the nape of Jack's neck, which went violet just the slightest bit as Jack finally caught onto the meaning of day four's lily/snowdrop conundrum. Snowdrop, huh? "'ts far too early to be thinking so hard."

"Yeah..." Jack murmured, but instead of actually falling asleep, rolled over in Aster's grip to curl up into his chest and view the world over his shoulder.

With a weary sigh, Aster reached out to stroke the wall next to their bed, and new shoots immediately started springing up out of the ground. Before Jack's eyes, they budded, then bloomed into beautiful pure white flowers tinged with an elegant grace and tiny little clumps of violently violet flowers. "Spoiled you rotten, I did."

Instead of gracing that statement with a real answer, Jack just stroked whatever fur was closest to him and murmured, "What are they?"

"Cape jasmine and heliotrope. Now go back to sleep."

A few notes he had read on those flowers niggled at the back of his mind, and Jack smiled as he buried his head in Aster's chest. _Everlasting love_ and_ I am too happy_. "Likewise."

"Go to _sleep_, you little bugger."

* * *

A/N: And that's the end! I hope very much that you enjoyed it. When I was posting this to AO3, I made a flower guide as well. I don't think you're allowed to do entire chapters as author's notes on , so you'll just have to view it on AO3, I guess. Username Melissae. Lots of other fics there, too. Next, I'll post some of my one shots before starting to post my current WIP.


End file.
